


Around The House

by rainy_fangirl



Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Askbox Fic, Drabble Sequence, F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-15
Updated: 2019-01-06
Packaged: 2019-06-10 17:27:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15296445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainy_fangirl/pseuds/rainy_fangirl
Summary: A collection of Touka-based drabbles based offtheseasks.





	1. bedroom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> what's your sleep schedule?

Touka swears she hasn’t slept in at least two years, which isn’t far away from the truth. She’s a single mother, first and foremost, and a cafe manager second. Balancing her and Kaneki’s Hiroki schedule is a lot like balancing shifts in the terms that she did them both late at night once re:’s finally closed for the night and her baby boy’s asleep. A divorced mother with a two year old didn’t get much sleep as it was, the store ensured that she didn’t get any. And then there was Yoriko, the best baby-sitter/best friend with benefits she’d ever had, the kisses and bedroom activities were where Touka was glad she knew how to brew fancy coffee and had it in bulk. 

 

Her days began early, quietly sneaking out of the upstairs apartment and into the shop to prep for opening, handling the morning rush before Hiroki woke up, alternating between taking care of her son and the shop, Yoriko stopping in when she could to take care of her godson and help Touka out where she could. Re: closed at two in the morning and opened at six, she was up long after with paperwork and long before preparing. But, but, it was worth it in the end, the naps she managed to squeeze in when Kaneki had Hiroki and the shop wasn’t too busy. It was worth it, Touka decided, flopping face first onto the bed, a drowsy Yoriko pulling her closer. 

 

“Are you okay?” She mumbled, pressing a tiny kiss to Touka’s forehead. 

 

“No.”

 

“Will you be?” Yoriko’s tone turned hopeful.

 

“Absolutely.”


	2. kitchen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Favorite comfort food?

Yoriko brought her pasta when she was sick, and therefore on her own tier of Touka’s favorite person. In some ways, it reminded her of her father when he was still alive and she and Ayato were kids. Her now girlfriend reminds her of the good times, her father brushing her hair when she was too young to do it herself and kissing her forehead and making her laugh. Yoriko reminds her why she got divorced, but not painfully. Yoriko did everything she’d needed from Kaneki (that being care and love), Nishiki was probably sick of bringing her things when she was pregnant. There are some things her previous loves just couldn’t do, knocking on her door with mac and cheese when she was sniffly and depressed was a major part of it. 

 

It was a stupid comfort food, something that could be made in microwavable cups, but coming from a family where they had neither the time or money for other things, Touka was grateful for it. She was grateful, especially now, curling up against the crook of Yoriko’s arm, spoon in one hand, bowl in the other. “Fuck, I love you.” She mumbled with what was left of her voice, setting the food aside to rest her head on her girlfriend’s shoulder. “Is Hiroki…”

 

“In bed, hours ago.” Yoriko smiled, kissing her forehead. “You should be too.”


	3. washroom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> showers or baths? bubbles? bath bombs?

Touka lets herself sink, sweetly scented bubbles all the way up to the bridge of her nose. It’s different, nice, she’s unused to tea of any kind, particularly green. Despite her culture, she’d always considered herself more of a ‘coffee person’. At least for a while, after moving in with Yoshimura and working at Anteiku, in addition with catching up on seven years, she’d been drinking coffee since she was eleven, never thought twice about it. But now, when a layer of snow dusted the tops of the planter boxes outside her apartment. It’s barely November, and Tokyo seems to have shut down for the day, on this insignificant Monday afternoon. It’s days like these she prefers tea. 

Kaneki had Hiroki for the week, her little boy wouldn’t be home with her until Thursday. Re: bustled quietly below her, she could hear the hissing of espresso machines from under her floorboards. The shop was quiet today, her usual customers replaced by those bold enough to brave the commute to their downtown jobs, and needed coffee on their journey. Bureaucrats, most of them. Kaneki’s “new age” friends, trying to change history. Whether he recommended Re: to them before the divorce or they just want a glance at the woman and child he’d left with her. 

She leaves the bathtub once the water cools so much she can’t justify staying any longer. Touka makes a mental note to thank Yoriko for the bathbomb (apparently there was a Lush near the bakery). Her girlfriend treated everyone around her gently, a welcome change to Touka’s roughness around the edges. Yoriko knew her way around a beauty  counter, whereas Touka knew the bare minimum, relying on hotel soap and whatever wouldn’t make her hair fall out: five minute showers and dry shampoo. She’d been worse since the divorce and better since Yoriko, who would leave lotion in her bathroom cabinet and produce in her fridge during weeks when she’s been too busy for either. 

Touka dries herself off, gently pulling on a dark gray t-shirt dress with a sweater jacket over it. For lunch, she reheats what’s left of last night’s dinner, puts the kettle on the stove for tea (green, she only has one bag left from the last time she had the stomach flu, back when Kaneki had cared enough to take a week off work to take care of her). When Yoriko treks home for the evening (she’s been sleeping over more and more, not that Touka’s complaining), she greets her girlfriend with a kiss in the doorway, Yoriko’s lips cold against hers, and a sorry excuse for dinner in the oven. “Hi darling, how was work?”


	4. closet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> describe your style in a few words.

Things are complicated, Touka realizes this as she leafs through her closet, which is full of simple dresses and various aprons she’d collected over the years. She wouldn’t say she has a style, per se, just wears what’s practical: ballet flats (knee high leather boots when Kaneki has Hiroki for the weekend), a variety of tights, some worn down with holes she has to fill in with sharpies, all in darker shades from her Anteiku (and Kaneki) days, and a few brighter ones that she and Yoriko had picked out on a free afternoon, right before Christmas when she was willing to close up early. Touka loves her dresses, they were one of the first things she’d bought after starting re:, she feels feminine and delicate, glowing in simple and vintage patterns. There were times when she couldn’t feel proud of herself or how she looked, coming of age in a coffee shop after a decade and a half of everything she loved being taken from her, and after, years of being in the public eye, the young wife of a budding young politician, already pregnant before they were married. 

 

With Yoriko, she’s better, little pieces of self love slipping through her cracks. She’s liberated, hands running down her curves, fingers hopelessly tangled in her hair. It’s easier to find things she likes, now that she has a shopping partner who knows what she likes. Her girlfriend is always nudging Touka towards lighter colors, the pale yellows, pinks, and flower patterns she knows will add a little sunshine to melancholy of Tokyo in January. 

 

Touka evaluates her options, finding nothing that said ‘karaoke double date with your ex-husband and his new boyfriend’. They’d split on peaceful terms, enough to remain close friends, but that didn’t mean it wouldn’t be awkward. Yoriko and Hideyoshi had insisted, however, and she supposed she’d have to at some point, but tonight? Touka buries her hands in her hair, exhausted with frustration. She picks up her phone, Yoriko would be leaving work soon anyways. “Hey, what are you wearing tonight?”

 

“Miniskirt, leggings, bakery tee-shirt.” She answers without a thought, Touka can imagine her girlfriend resting the phone on her shoulder, shrugging on her coat in the bakery’s back room. “Do you need help?” Yoriko asks after a moment, her voice teasing. 

 

“As always, love. See you in fifteen.”

 

“Mhmm, love you.” Touka can hear her girlfriend smile, even over the phone.


End file.
